Rending of the Veil
by Cirronian de Bergerac
Summary: DM & RR during Under Color


The Rending of the Veil  
  
Set during Under Color - DM & RR G-rating  
  
I don't own them. They all belong to RPD and the wonderful Mr. Widen who brought their world to us. Making no money just thinking in e-print.  
  
Feedback appreciated (even if it is howls of agony to tell me STOP already).  
  
In disbelief Duncan stared as his student swung at the immobilized immortal. Trapped in the rotten wood Mako's eyes widened, seeming to scream, injustice! His body still trying vainly to win free of his entrapment.  
  
Richie's saber cut cleanly through. His face a rictus of concentrated rage, his awareness split between watching the replay of Laura's needless death from Mako's single minded pursuit and meting out 'immortal' justice to this juggernaut of blind righteousness.  
  
"Mac?" Ritchie's voice quavered in fear of the unknown.  
  
Duncan walked away unable to help and unable to continue watching as the quickening began. He would have left completely but he could not leave Ritchie helpless in the grip of his 1st quickening.  
  
The ride home was silent. Ritchie shivering in the brutal wakes of a quickening that was still trying to overpower him with Duncan glancing at him from time to time in uncomfortable assessment. Mako was easily 200 plus times Ritchie's age and his kill ratio had been high, not a good combination for a young immortal to assimilate first time out. The boy, no, the man next to him was fighting a strong personality as well as an adrenaline high, it was a battle his teacher could not fight for him. There were no words of wisdom or comfort for this. No last lesson to be taught here.  
  
Entering the dojo the two men split up, Ritchie to the showers, Duncan upstairs to the bar for a drink as he sought to pull the last few days into perspective and quell his troubled spirit. He had not thought this day would come so soon. There was still so much left to impart to his student, still so much left to teach. But that relationship was over. The reality of Ritchie as immortal was here, what could Duncan give to the man who had just taken a life for the 1st time?  
  
Thoughts tumbled through Duncan's mind, a chaotic swirl, some thoughts of relief that Ritchie had lived, some thoughts that despite all the talks on honor, Ritchie had taken advantage of Mako's misstep and not given him the chance to finish the fight fairly. Again, Duncan's strong mind-set, his ethics, clouded his feelings. He knew that if the fight had been his, he would have given Mako the respect of freeing himself to finish the fight, but how much of that feeling was because of his confidence in his own abilities, his remaining respect for the laws that Mako had believed in and his distance from the welter of emotions and insecurities that had been running through Ritchie.  
  
Hearing the elevator climb up, Duncan moved to stand in front of it, still focusing inward on what was to come. He didn't want it to be like this but it seemed as if part of him had frozen and part of him was shrilly screaming that this was now an opponent, despite the love he bore for this man-child. The center of his being cried out a warning, here lies peril! No wonder most immortals could not have lasting relationships w/ their own kind. This low thrum of foreboding bracketed the relationship, the knowledge that the beloved could one day be executioner. The thin shroud that divided student from potential challenger had fallen away. Every instinct he possessed klaxoned a warning about remaining within striking range of his former student. How much of it was the subliminal discordant vibrations from the still unsettled quickening, playing like a siren's song in the length of his spine, trying to call him into battle readiness? How much worse was it for his student?  
  
Duncan turned to face Ritchie, presenting a carefully blank countenance despite his warring emotions.  
  
"It's getting pretty cold. Probably gonna snow soon" Ritchie's statement was a tentative opening, not sure what his mentor's deathly stillness meant.  
  
"You have to leave" the words fell from Mac's stiff lips, striking Ritchie with small darts of anguish.  
  
"It's that time?" Ritchie asked, a small amount of hurt confusion coloring the question.  
  
"Was I wrong? About Mako?" a new awareness filtered the light blue gaze, the veil of innocence had been wrenched away in one act of violence and he searched for the truth in the shadows guarding Duncan's eyes.  
  
"It's done" Mac replied with more than a little finality.  
  
"I just never figured it would be like this. I was gonna have friends, get a job, meet a girl. It's all backwards now." Left unsaid was the statement 'I was gonna be like you dad'.  
  
"Some things will never change, some things will. You'll have to live with them" Mac was still numb but the words seemed to arrive on his lips without his conscious volition.  
  
"Yeah. Maybe." Ritchie searched Mac's face again, hoping for some sign of their former relationship. "So, I guess I'll see you around?"  
  
"You take care of yourself." Duncan's voice carried a tension Ritchie had never heard in it before.  
  
"Thanks Mac, for everything." Ritchie faltered a little as Duncan abruptly turned his back. Then despair coloring his words, "Mac are we ever gonna have to face each other?"  
  
"Maybe." Mac somberly replied.  
  
Refusing to watch the beloved figure disappear from view, Duncan remained turned away from the elevator. He walked stiffly to the couch and sat, his innate grace making the gesture appear negligent and uncaring but Duncan's stomach refused to unclench, every movement almost agony as he whispered a silent prayer, his chin dropping onto steepled hands, ignoring the solitary tear burning it's way down his cheek. 


End file.
